


Till the End of the Line

by p0edameron, smjaygal



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers the Sitcom, Comfort/Angst, Domestic Avengers, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Porn with Feelings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, nobody is straight, polyvengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:10:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7263748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0edameron/pseuds/p0edameron, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smjaygal/pseuds/smjaygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got pissed at the ending of Winter Soldier and basically decided to rewrite everything Marvel ever because I hate myself. Here, have me trying to fix everything MCU fucked up about my boys starting right after Steve falls through the helicarrier glass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till the End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> This WAS going to be longer since I usually shoot for about 3k words per chapter but honestly, ao3 is going to get rid of the draft in just a few days so have this. I'll do my best to squeeze out a longer next chapter since this one is so short. Meanwhile, I'm on tumblr as vann-haal though there's nothing really important. DarthDumbass is over at ayeyophoebe and there's much more entertaining shit over there. Hope y'all enjoy this as much as both of us do and you can thank DarthDumbass for egging me on to do this in the first damn place. Literally this whole thing is entirely her fault.

“I’m with you to the end of the line.”

The beautiful blonde man with the strong jaw disappeared from sight as the man who had been previously punching the shit out of him, formerly known as The Winter Soldier, grappled with a flood of half images and snippets of conversation. He recalled something about a funeral, offering a skinny young boy his apartment. Why? He wasn’t sure. Apparently the skinny boy had also turned him down for some reason. He wasn’t sure of the why on that one either. But one thing was certain.

The man crouched on beam of crumpled black steel wasn’t The Winter Soldier and every link to anything he was had just fallen through a smashed window.

Without thinking, the man jumped down after the blonde - Steve? That felt right somehow but he wasn’t exactly sure if that was the right answer. Honestly, he wasn’t totally  _ sure _ of much, just that whoever he’d just tried to kill was his best friend. He could remember that much. A part of him also remembered that best friends were supposed to look out for each other and if he  _ was _ right and they  _ were _ best friends, he couldn’t just let the blonde die.

Bucky. That was his name, wasn’t it? That’s what the blonde man said. Or was it a nickname? Bucky didn’t sound like a real name. He - Steve - said something about James too. Yeah, that felt right. James Buchanan Barnes. It fit. He liked it.

But his liking couldn’t last for too long since he had to maneuver his way through the air. Something inside him took over, moving so he was falling feet first, almost pointed, and his arms moved into an x, protecting his face.

That’s when Bucky hit the water.

The wind in his face on the way down had really cleared his head, helped rattle loose a few memories. The man he was after - the beautiful blonde -  _ was _ named Steve and his name was Bucky. They had lived together for years but that’s all he could recall. That and this desperate, aching  _ need _ to find the man he’d just punched. Even if, when that man woke up, he never forgave Bucky for nearly killing him.

Somehow, despite the icy touch of the river, Bucky managed to swim his way to the person he was looking for, grabbing around the waist. His powerful legs kicked out behind him, ignoring the growing ache in his lungs. Breaching the surface, he gasped for air, suddenly very acutely aware of aches in his left arm, in his sides, seemingly all over his body. But Bucky had a friend to take care of, so he focused on that.

Holding his - friend? - to his side and kicking out, Bucky managed to make it to shore, careful of Steve’s injuries as he dragged him to land. His right hand snaked out, satisfied to find a pulse though somewhat faint. So he hadn’t swallowed too much water before he’d been pulled out. Ok, good. Now what had the army taught him?

Army? Bucky hesitated a moment. When had  _ he _ been in the army?

Steve’s cough brought his attention back where it mattered and Bucky focused in, letting instinct take over. He was stripping off the harness across his chest as quickly as possible, scrabbling with velcro and buckles until finally,  _ finally _ he was free. Underneath all the crap was a clinging black t-shirt Bucky peeled off. He ripped off strips, wrapping them around Steve’s various wounds. He knew better than to try and take out any bullets himself for risk of causing more harm. Instead, Bucky put pressure where it was needed and generally kept Steve breathing. Somehow, he managed to ignore the shivering his dripping hair was causing, focusing instead on the body before him.

After God only knew how long, it occurred to the man who was pretty sure his name was Bucky that he should probably call for help. Carefully, gingerly, he searched the other’s belt, looking through pouches and pockets to come across a badly battered phone. Upon a little inspection, it didn’t look too water logged. He could probably make at least one call. But… to who?

Feeling stupid, Bucky sat back on his haunches, trying to figure out what to do, fingers absentmindedly combing through his hair. Here he was, a guy with no memories, no scratch that, no  _ useful _ memories, and now no shirt, trying to figure out how to save a guy he had previously been trying to kill. Why had he been trying to kill him? Why had he stopped?

_ Till the end of the line _

It rang in his head when he asked that question. Right. It had sparked some things, especially a very strong sense of protection. For some reason. It was so strong, it was still compelling him to help. With no other leads to go on, Bucky decided to follow this one.

So what was the emergency number for… wherever he was? He couldn’t remember so he did the next best thing and looked through the phone’s contacts. There were lots of people in here - Sam, some kind of spider, Tony, and a doctor. Dr. Banner? Well, he had to be important if he was a doctor. Maybe he could help?

The other end rang three times before someone picked up. “Steve?”

“No.”

“Who is this?” the voice was a man. Confused. Almost as confused as he felt.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t…? Never mind,” there was a sigh. “Is Steve OK?”

Bucky bit his lip, brushing some hair off the other man’s brow. Had he been right? “Is he the blonde guy?”

There was another sigh. Bucky didn’t understand why. Was the doctor somehow unhappy with Bucky? He couldn’t figure it out.

“Yes, the blonde guy. Big dude. Lots of muscles,” Bucky nodded, eyes wide. “Is he ok?”

“He fell from… from something high,” the man could feel himself growing frustrated. What was it they were on? “It had big propellers.”

“A helicarrier?” Something fell on the other side of the line. Almost like a breaking mug. Had this Dr. Banner person been drinking coffee? “It’s big and it’s black and goes thousands of miles in the sky, very large propellers.”

“Yes!” Bucky crowed, happy to have come across a question he could finally answer. “I patched him up but he needs help. You were in his phone.”

There was a pause on the other line, almost as if the man named Banner couldn’t quite place what was going on. “Ok. Do you know where you are?”

“Um…” he paused, looking around in an attempt to assess his location. “By a river and there’s a smoking building about… I’d say four or five blocks away. I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Another sigh. “Ok. I’ll… I’ll see what I can do. And, kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hang up.”

“Oh… ok.”

Bucky stayed on the line, obeying the doctor’s orders to help keep Steve stable until someone could get there even though he’d already done most of those things. There was a feeling in his gut that told him, no  _ screamed _ at him to run but he stomped it down. Steve needed his help. Especially since, somehow, this was his fault to begin with.

So he cradled the other’s head, fingers combing gently through hair, and answered what questions he could. Eventually, there was another voice on the line. Someone named Tony. He sounded sure of himself, someone powerful and confident. He asked a lot of questions about what had happened, not all of which the man with no memory could answer. But he tried, despite feeling like a child, because his best buddy was here in his lap, needing help.

Before too long, there was a very loud WHOOSH that made him jump back, scrabbling for weapons. A big tin man dropped in from the sky, all red and yellow. A helmet drew back in a series of soft whirs to reveal a worn but handsome face framed with a tasteful goatee and moustache, hair trimmed almost soldier-like. He made Bucky’s skin crawl.

“Whoa, easy there, tiger,” the tone was hushed, hands held up defensively as if Bucky were a wild animal. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Just here to check on the Cap, ok?”

Bucky nodded, sheathing his drawn knife and crouching back by his friend, eyes never moving from the strange man’s face.

“The name’s Tony. Tony Stark,” he offered, putting a hand in the air over “the cap,” moving it up and down as if somehow scanning.

Stark… Stark….

Howard and Maria Stark had been a lovely couple with a young son, going for a drive one day when they had suffered a fatal car accident. A car accident Bucky was more than confident he had caused. For some reason. And their kid… their boy. His name was Tony. Was this their son? Was this the “little boy” they left behind?

He bit his lip, choking down the gruesome series of images the name brought to mind. He’d probably killed his man’s parents and here he was helping Bucky out. Except he couldn’t remember if Stark was a common name or not. If things turned out the way they looked in his head, he’d apologize later or something for killing this man’s parents. Right now, Steve had to be his sole focus.

But Tony had been talking the whole time and Bucky came to only to see a hand waving in front of his face. “Hey, Soldier. You with me?”

“Y-yeah,” he answered, nodding.

Tony just nodded warily. “JARVIS says Cap’ll be fine and called 911. You gonna be ok?”

“I don’t know.” He shuddered internally to think how true that statement was.

There was a concerned crease between the other’s eyebrows Bucky didn’t like so he looked away. “Who are you, kid?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Tony frowned to himself, fully taking in the metal arm and dishevelled hair as well as all the wounds across his exposed skin, the little shivers the drips from wet hair were causing. He knew Steve had been doing  _ something _ with Nat and some new guy named Sam but he’d been busy with other things. Namely some tweaks on Rhodey’s War Machine suit and some rather, ah,  _ private _ time with Bruce since Pepper had been wrapped up in company business lately. But this kid looked so familiar despite his young appearance.

“JARVIS -”

“Yes, sir?”

“Run facial diagnostic scans, would you? We need to figure out who this kid is.”

“I can tell you, sir, that he doesn’t appear to be in the current New York database of facial recognition, may I suggest -”

“Not just New York,” Tony ordered, eyes trained on the man stroking Steve’s hair. “The whole world. And go back to 1900.”

“But, sir-”

“This is Capsicle we’re dealing with. We have no idea who this is, if it could be one of his buddies from before the big freeze or someone entirely new.”

“Sir-”

“Just do it,” Tony sighed.

“Sir, if you would just  _ listen _ ,” JARVIS finally insisted. “I’ve found him.”

“Oh….” Tony paused, trying not to linger on the perfect sculpt of muscles. “Ok. Well, who is it?”

“Sir, the man you are currently looking at is the deceased, no  _ formerly deceased _ James Buchanan Barnes, otherwise known as Bucky. He was the Captain’s -”

“It’s ok, JARVIS,” Tony replied. “I know who he is.”

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as purely a stucky oneshot that explored how much of an absolute cornball Steve is or how this would manifest. It was completely self indulgent pretending Civil War never happened/went way better than written. We're also ignoring that brucenat ever happened due to some serious ooc on the writers' parts and basically anything else Joss Whedick ever touched ever.
> 
> What this has become is, as my friend DarthDumbass calls it, Avengers the Sitcom because I was way too pissed with pretty much everything that was happening in the cinematic universe. And then the comics made Steve Hydra and I went off the damn deep end. So what you have is a collection of chapters that are somewhat related where I try to make some sense of the absolute mess I've been left to deal with while trying to stay true to the characters.
> 
> Also, yes, EVERYONE is polyamorous and involved in SOME WAY with everybody else with very rare exceptions that will be discussed in fic by various characters. There will also be discussion of various mental illnesses and whatnot. So while this may not be 100% smooth and peachy, it's also not going to be the ~dRaMaTiiiiiiC!!!~ clusterfuck that is Marvel lately.


End file.
